


let me lead you from your solitude

by sultrygoblin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, First Meetings, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22751872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: request - loki returns to find that there is more to the woman he loves than he remembers
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 9





	let me lead you from your solitude

**Author's Note:**

> I promise guys I’ll get passed the SFW stuff soon, gotta work back up to ya know?

Wayland is his mother's son, small and slender, but strong. Just like his mother, but strong none the less. He's not quite a man but he has completed his first hunts, the blue tattooed lines that stretch from the edge of his cheek to the hairline meant to tell the world this and it did just that. Loki can't help but wonder how. Was he an archer too? Had she passed that along to him inside her womb as she had chestnut curls and lean muscle.

"Stand up straight, child," Jorunnr whispers, pushing his shoulders back and chin up, "He may be the fallen prince of Asgard but he is our prince none the less."

She thinks he can't hear her but he can. He's always been able to when he tries, when he's willing. Once he may have mocked her for such a statement, prodded her with statements of his true heritage, as he often liked to do when he was too far gone into madness. See if perhaps this would be the time he broke her of her unwavering loyalty. But not here, not today. Today is about her and her boy, the life she had kept living after he had left her with nothing but empty promises and a broken heart, again. He had spent so long convincing himself that she didn't matter, that they had been nothing more than a fairy tale, a farce, to entertain himself. As always he was convincing, he'd almost begun to believe it. He might've. Except Thor's tongue had slipped.

He hadn't wanted to know, about her or her life without him. Loki never had, not then and most certainly not now. He had made that perfectly clear to his brother over and over again. Thor had done his best, he really had, maybe he had known letting it slip was for the best. Shame about her boy though, it had made his spine rigid, made him clench his teeth, No child should grow up without a father, and that was that. His brother offered no more and he swore stubbornness was why he had not asked. It was not. He had not asked simply because he had known it would shatter whatever little pieces of his heart remained just as it did now. Their hut, the life she had built on Vanaheim, without him. What other choice had he given her though? It was that thought that made him press onward. Not for him, not for her boy, for her. For all the times he should have found her, for every time he should have apologized. The least he could give her was a proper good bye, one she more than deserved. 

“Formalities have never suited us, have they?” approaching slowly, his Trickster mask firmly in place, so sure it would stay there as long as he kept his smile charming and his words sweet.

“He must learn,” turning her eyes to her boys, which quickly flick down as he bows, deep and low, “And?”  
“Welcome to our home,” he straightened, trying his best to keep the posture his mother desired while exploring their guest with curious eyes.

His eyes. Blue that waved with the barest of green, naturally cheeky. He would know them anywhere, he's seen them his whole life. He should have known, he really should have, at a certain point it became willful ignorance. If he didn't think about it he could almost believe he hadn't hurt her that badly, certainly no more than before. Her boy, he had known, he just refused to think it. He couldn't deny it now, not when it was quite literally staring him in the face.

“Alright, off with you,” all sense of propriety leaving the duo, it had not been for him but the boy, he should have known, “Home by sunset,” grabbing his cheeks and pressing a big kiss to the boys forehead, causing red to bloom on his face, “And if you boys are going to shoot those arrows, you better intend to hit your target. I will not have my boy leave animals to rot, right?” her face stern, dragging his eyes from the man to her, “Right?”

“I told you that was not-” she narrowed her eyes, “Yes, mother,” she stepped back handing him his quiver and bow.  
He wasted no time, so much like them both at that age, dashing into the forest and quickly out of sight. His shouting and laughter took much longer to disappear and she did not turn to face him until it had. For the first time he truly looks at her, no distractions, no where to hide. As he knew, and most certainly feared, she was more beautiful than he remembered. There's a slight plumpness to her that is new, a little rounder around the hips and bosom, pregnancy had served her well. He feels a momentary pang in his chest, knowing he had not been there to see the glow upon her skin. He had not held her hair back nor her hand when she had brought her -their- son into the world. 

“What did I tell you?” he laughs instead, knowing all too well the longer her thinks the quicker she will read him like a book, “You make a wonderful mother.”

She chuckles a bit too hard, “That is certainly one way to have this conversation,” she places her hands on her hips, clicking her tongue as she shook her head, “Formalities have never suited us.”

Her wit has sharpened, and it had never been a dull weapon, “He's had his first hunt,” she nodded, turning towards the hut, bidding him to follow behind her, “How did he do?”

The wooden door had been left open and they stepped into the cozy building. It isn't much but it's clear they have found a way to turn it into a home they both found comfort in. There's the smell of baked bread and brandy, a fire keeps it surprisingly warm, they enter straight into a sitting room, the kitchen off the side and a hallway off to the other.

“Quite well,” turning to look at him once more, “But you're not here for that. If I were to guess, I would have to say that your brother with a bit cleverness let his tongue slip at just the right moment.”

The world has toughened her, a son had given her no patience for half-truths and lies as she once had, she will not be placated with the pretty words he knew so well. There wasn't just her to worry about anymore. There was him.

“I am sorry,” she shakes her head, “What?”

He watches her take a deep breath, as she always had before saying something she knew he would not enjoy hearing, “It was best you weren't here and as of right now,” she sighs and he knows.

“I understand,” because he does, “One day though...”

She nods, smiling at him, “One day, I am sure,” she offers him her hand, “Come, supper will be ready soon.”


End file.
